It's Worth It
by Sarah Acton
Summary: Arthur was a teenager with a hard life when he met Ivan. The huge Russian promised to give Arthur back the family that Fate had taken from him. But nothing in this world is free. The hardships Arthur faces throughout the coming years will try his heart, mind, and body beyond anything he ever imagined. But with the green-eyed boy named Antonio at his side, it will all be worth it.


If you could ask Arthur about the day that his life had been drastically changed, the response he would relay to you would not be from memory. Almost all he knows had been learned after the fact, from police reports, news stories, and from witnesses to the accident.

He was thirteen when it happened.

He was thirteen the day that his parents died in a horrific car accident.

What he could tell you about that day is the feeling of annoyance. His mum had fussed and fussed over his hair, which stayed messy despite her best efforts. His parents, after years of working hard in their book store, had finally made a name for themselves. Things were not so hard now, and they even had money left over to do some of the things that before had only been considered a luxury, such as going out on opening night to see a musical.

Arthur was ecstatic, and could barely contain his excitement, despite his mother constantly tugging at his hair or trying to fix his tie so that it lay straight against his chest. At the time, Arthur found it incredibly annoying, this habit of his mother's. Now, he misses it with an ache that hollows out his whole chest.

He can tell you how his father, the stoic type except when around his family, had hair as messy as his own, and eyebrows just as thick as Arthur's today, yet his father still always managed to look so dashing, while Arthur just looked awkward. He can tell you how his mother's blonde hair was curled, and she had on the pearls that were a wedding gift from his grandfather on his parents' wedding day. Arthur can still remember the conversation they had, just before his world was turned on its axis.

"Arthur, dear, your hair…" his mother had said despairingly, though she could honestly say the perpetual bed-head suited her moody son.

"Oh, mum, stop worrying! No one will care if my hair is a little messy or not."

"That's right, Lizzy," his father had chimed in with a chuckle, "don't fret. Besides, our Arthur is just as handsome as I was at his age. He doesn't have to worry about his appearance!"

"While I do agree that you BOTH are handsome," said his mother, taking one of her husband's hands and holding it with both her own, "I would like to see him- Oh, John, be careful!"

The car swerved, and narrowly avoided meeting the median of the highway. Elizabeth looked at her husband, then son, then out at the road. John shrugged sheepishly as he slowed down in his lane to drive at the speed limit with the other cars. "Sorry, loves, I thought I saw blue lights and made a move to pull over."

All went well for the next few moments. Arthur's mother had teased his father about getting old and seeing things, Arthur had laughed at them. It was time for them to exit off of the highway, as the theatre was almost in view.

Just then, time seemed to slow down. There was a loud crash, a jerk, and then all went black.

Bleary eyes opened up to a painfully bright white room, hushed but hurried voices all around him. His head was swimming with questions, but he could not speak. There was something in his throat, and he could not tell if the breaths that he was taking were of his own accord or not. Arthur, just on the brink of panicking, made a strained, muffled noise around the tube in his mouth, and everyone stopped. Without the flurry of movement, Arthur could see the people better. There were nurses and a doctor in the room, all looking at him with relief evident on their faces.

"Arthur," one called, though he sounded far away, "you're in the hospital, and you're safe. Do you want to take the breathing tube out?"

'Breathing tube?' Arthur thought. He nodded as best he could, coughing and spluttering as he was given the freedom to breathe on his own. "Where are my mum and dad?" he rasped.

The room became still a second time as they all looked to one another, hoping someone had the courage to tell the boy the news.

He had no mother and father. They both died when their car had been crashed into and forced into the dip on the side of the exit. It had rolled a few times, and crashed into a tree, crushing the parents, and almost Arthur.

Finally, the message was relayed, and Arthur sat in stunned silence. Finally, he had gathered enough energy to speak. "I wish to be left alone."

"But, dear, we still need to-"

"LEAVE! NOW!"

Nurses gave unsure glances to the doctor before leaving, and the doctor placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "We will give you some time to grieve."

And grieve he did.

For years, Arthur cried over the loss of his family. He acted out in school, whenever the foster homes he was shipped to allowed him to go to school. Graffiti, fighting, and stealing were how he acted out his pain. He never thought of any of the repercussions of his actions, until one day they paid him a visit in the form of a tall, pale man with a prominent nose and a pair of lifeless purple eyes. Arthur was just finishing up his masterpiece on the side of the school when a hand with an iron-like grip was placed on his shoulder. Muttering a curse, as he was sure it was the police, Arthur stood from his kneeling position.

"That is beautiful picture. You are artist, da?" a thick Russian accent asked, making Arthur jump and turn around to face the man.

"Yes. The next Picasso, they call me," he bit out sarcastically, glaring and trying to appear as intimidating as a short, skinny sixteen-year-old could.

The Russian seemed to enjoy his little show, and chuckled at him, though there was something off about it. It didn't seem like a laugh that would come out of a normal person. It was dark, cold, broken. "You are fighter, young one. I have watched you for some time, and am impressed. Since the loss of family, I thought you would become more integrated into society, yet you seem to try and defy it every chance you get. I can be helping you do that more. Your newest foster home, how do you like?"

Arthur, though he had no problems with his foster parents, snorted. "I hate it. I hate living somewhere that they don't love me and they can just push me onto someone else if things get hard." He stopped, almost taken aback. He had never been so honest before, not even to counselors that he has known for three years. What about this Russian made him want to be so honest with him?

The large man nodded, appearing to think through something. "Well, what if I told you that I can give you a home. Permanent home. One with other adolescents like yourself that have lost family and need another to replace them? And we shall be family! It will be great fun. What do you say?"

Arthur studied the man, then narrowed his eyes. "To give someone a family, that is too good to be true. There is something you are not telling me. What do I need to give you in return? How can I trust you?"

"Well, I am Ivan, you are Arthur! We already know each other! And, if you are needing any proof, I can take you to meet some of the children I have helped?"

Throwing the can of spray paint down, Arthur ignored every instinct that told him to run home. He nodded, walking over to the other man. "Take me to them, and we will see."

Ivan's wide smile changed a tad, almost looking like a smirk, and nodded, stepping to the side and gesturing with his arm. "Very well. Come, come." They walked together in silence, Arthur getting the strange feeling that all was not right with this man beside him. Along the city streets, there were rows of red brick buildings that Arthur recognized from the trips into town with his foster parents. He followed the man, Ivan, as they walked into one of them, and Arthur suddenly did not feel so scared. There were plenty of people there, mostly his age or a bit younger he thought as he studied them, and one in particular caught his eye. A little tan, green eyed boy looked up and smiled at him, his curly brown locks shaking as he lifted his hand and waved. Arthur smiled shyly back, and looked away, feeling heat begin to bloom in his cheeks.

"What do you think? Is nice, da?"

Arthur looked back to the boy, who was playing with a soccer ball next to a rather angry looking younger boy with auburn hair with a strange curl to it, and then back at Ivan. "I would love to be a part of this family."

Ivan's smirk turned devilish. "I'm glad to hear it. We will start your schooling tomorrow. How about you get a good night's rest? You will be very much needing it."


End file.
